A flash back
That night, Liam had just returned from his part-time job. A bar on the edge of the city, where he worked as a waiter. His face lit up, because that night he managed to collect a lot of tips—almost equal to his salary.
His steps stopped in front of the apartment room he rented with Clara. There, he saw a pair of men's shoes he knew very well: Alex's, his best friend's.
Liam didn't suspect anything. He only thought his friend might be staying over, as had often happened before.
Without much thought, Liam went in, cleaned himself up, and then headed to his room. But he didn't find Alex there. His brows furrowed in confusion. Maybe Alex went out to buy some food or drinks, he thought, trying to calm himself.
After that, Liam walked to Clara's room, intending to say good night to his girlfriend. But as soon as the door opened, his eyes widened.
It was as if his blood stopped flowing.
In front of him, Clara and Alex were asleep in each other's arms—without a single thread covering their bodies.
On the floor lay several used condoms. The smell in the room could not lie either: traces of an act that had just happened.
Liam's whole body went weak. The night that was once full of happiness crumbled in an instant.
He quietly closed the door, as if not wanting to wake them. His steps returned to his room, but his mind wandered far. Piece by piece of memories with Clara spun in his head, alongside moments of friendship with Alex.
The tears he had held back finally fell. He knew crying might make him look weak. But was there any man who wouldn't break when betrayed by the two people he trusted most?
That night passed quickly.
Morning came, and Liam still carried out his routine—preparing breakfast as usual. For himself, Clara, and Alex.
With a blank face, he sat at the dining table, chewing a sandwich that no longer had taste. While chewing, he waited for the two of them to come out of the room, as if nothing had happened the night before.
When the door opened, Clara and Alex came out with awkward faces. They clearly tried to hide their uneasiness, but couldn't.
Liam glanced briefly, then put down his sandwich. His smile was thin, too flat to be called friendly.
"Good morning," he said softly. "Did you sleep well?"
Clara swallowed hard, her eyes not daring to meet Liam's. Alex only nodded briefly, as if words had dried in his throat.
Liam stood up, calmly pouring coffee into a cup. The sound of liquid pouring echoed louder than usual in the silence of the dining room.
"Please, sit down. I've prepared breakfast for us," he said, his voice still calm. Too calm.
"I didn't know you stayed over, Alex… where did you sleep last night?" Liam casually asked his friend, staring at the glass in his hand.
Clara and Alex exchanged glances before finally pulling out chairs, sitting down with guilt written all over their faces.
Liam looked at them both.
It wasn't an angry gaze, not an explosive rage—just an empty, cold, and painful stare.
"Funny, isn't it," he suddenly said, stirring his coffee. "I work hard every night, come home smiling because I feel I have a home and people I can trust. But it turns out…" He stopped, lips curving bitterly. "…that home hasn't been mine for a long time."
Silence blanketed the table. Clara lowered her head, Alex clenched his fists, but no words came out.
"How does it feel… to sleep with my girlfriend?" Liam's voice was flat, but his gaze pierced straight into Alex.
"William…" Alex's voice was faint, but he couldn't meet Liam's eyes. He froze, throat moving, but no words came out.
Then Liam shifted his gaze to Clara. His smile was thin, bitter.
"And how does it feel… to be slept with by my best friend?"
Clara flinched. Her eyes welled up with tears, lips trembling in search of an impossible answer.
The dining room froze. Only the ticking clock and the sound of the spoon against Liam's coffee cup could be heard.
Liam leaned back in his chair, exhaling deeply. "Funny… you don't even know what to say. When it was you who chose this path."
Alex lowered his head, fingers clenched tight on the table. Clara broke into tears, but Liam only stared without the slightest hint of pity.
"I just want to hear one thing," Liam said calmly. "Was everything you did last night… worth the price of the friendship and love you destroyed today?"
Silence again. Clara sobbed, Alex still unable to open his mouth.
Liam finished his coffee, then put the cup down slowly. His eyes were empty again, but the thin smile on his lips only made the atmosphere more suffocating.
He straightened his body, staring at Clara, who was now crying harder. His voice came out soft but firm, every word like a blade cutting through the air.
"We're done, Clara."
Clara's tears flowed harder. She tried to reach for Liam's hand, but he quickly pulled away.
Then his gaze turned to Alex—the gaze that was once full of brotherhood, now only cold and wounded.
"And you, Alex…" Liam's voice trembled, not with doubt but with restrained anger. "…don't ever think of me as your friend again."
The room fell into silence. Only Clara's sobs filled the air, while Alex sat frozen, head bowed in shame.
Liam rose from his chair, slowly walking toward the door.
Without looking back, he said flatly, "You already have each other. So never mention my name between you again."
The apartment door closed with a loud thud, leaving them drowning in guilt.
As for Liam… he walked away without direction, his heart shattered into pieces.
From that day on, Liam took all his belongings, leaving Clara in the apartment with memories that no longer meant anything.
Clara chased after him, eyes swollen, voice trembling.
"Liam… please… I'm sorry. I… I didn't mean for it to happen."
Liam paused at the door, but didn't turn back. His hand gripped the suitcase tightly, as if it was the only thing he could hold onto.
With a low, firm voice, he replied,
"Mistakes like that never happen without intent, Clara."
Her tears flowed harder, her body shaking helplessly.
"I love you, Liam… please don't leave me."
Liam finally turned, looking at her one last time—a gaze full of pain, but also of finality.
"If that's what you call love…" he paused, swallowing the lump in his throat. "…then I don't want to be loved that way."
Without waiting for an answer, Liam walked away.
The sound of the door closing ended everything—love, friendship, and the home he once believed in.
With the little savings he had, Liam finally dared to leave for abroad. He knew the decision was risky—his money was limited, his provisions minimal, and he had no one to rely on in a foreign land.
But for him, staying would only prolong the pain. He needed to go, as far as possible from Clara, from Alex, from all the memories that had broken him.
On the plane, Liam stared out the window. The city full of bitter stories slowly shrank below, while his heart was filled with a mix of fear, emptiness, and a little relief.
For the first time in a long while, he felt free. Free to start over, even if the road was uncertain.
"From now on… I have to live for myself," he whispered, as if making a vow to himself.
For years, Liam struggled abroad. Every day he worked tirelessly, saving as much as he could, until little by little the memories of love were buried deep. For him, love was nothing more than a wound that once broke him.
Luckily, fate introduced him to a new friend—Fernando. A warm soul, always there to help and guide him through hard times. With Fernando, Liam learned again the meaning of togetherness and true friendship.
Time passed. Through his hard work, Liam finally returned to the city he once left behind. No longer as the man broken by betrayal, but as someone who had risen from the pain.
He built a small flower shop—his own florist. The shop slowly grew, blooming like the flowers he carefully nurtured. From there, he was finally able to buy a house for himself; a place he truly called home, not just a building filled with bitter memories.